


It's Kind of a Honey Story

by CrowleyLovesUSUK



Series: Honey & the Bulge [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Beekeeper Castiel (Supernatural), Benny Ships It, Bobby Singer in a Wheelchair, Bottom Dean Winchester, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fanboy Dean Winchester, M/M, Mentions of Bobby/Ellen, Mentions of other Supernatural Characters - Freeform, Outdoor Sex, Romance, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24394009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowleyLovesUSUK/pseuds/CrowleyLovesUSUK
Summary: A few years ago, Dean Winchester read an article about his favorite celebrity, Cain Lassiter, and his hobby of beekeeping. When Dean and his brother move to Sioux Falls to be closer to their Uncle Bobby, Dean decides that now that he has the land to do it, that he wants to have his own beehive. However, he doesn’t know the first thing about keeping bees.  When he discovers that a man in his neighborhood has hives, Dean tries to casually meet him in order to get some advice. He doesn’t expect to fall in love with awkward beekeeper Castiel Novak.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Honey & the Bulge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761460
Comments: 23
Kudos: 183





	It's Kind of a Honey Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angelolatry (EvelynRaith)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvelynRaith/gifts).



> This fic and the Sabriel sequel are for my dear friend, Angelolatry (EvelynRaith) who writes some super funny and fluffy fics--check them out, seriously! I know that things have been crap lately, but your SPNFamily is here for you and AKF! Love ya, lady!!
> 
> At this time, this is a one-shot that is part of a series. Sabriel will follow and they're both set in the same universe. You don't need to read one to know what's going on in the other though. I think I did explainers so it will all make sense.
> 
> I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters. If I did, we all know which two ships I'd have go canon LOL!
> 
> Fun Fact: Cain's last name, Lassiter, is the last name of Tim O's character on 'Psych.' If you haven't watched it, then you should, because it's amazing. And funny.
> 
> Also, if you've been reading my fics for a while, I think you can tell from the titles that I love me some puns!! So, that's why all my titles are ridiculous.

Dean Winchester wasn’t the type of person who gushed over celebrities. He hardly knew any of their names, save for some musicians. Music was one of Dean’s greatest passions and he was very particular about what he listened to. No Top Forty Hits for Dean—he was all about the classics...classic rock, that is. 

All of the greats filled his boxes of cassettes and records; and even the old iPod that his brother, Sam, had forced on him last Christmas. He felt like a douche using it, but Sam has been correct when he’d pointed out that a Walkman wasn’t convenient for the gym. Though Dean would never admit such a thing to his brother. The only reason he’d agreed to try it out was because it had formerly been Sam’s years ago, and his brother insisted that hardly anyone still used one, so Dean could “continue being out of touch with technology, only not as sad as tapes.” What a bitch his brother was sometimes. 

Along with the iPod, Dean had started to use his own phone a bit more for a few ‘fun’ endeavors beyond just calling people. He’d added a couple apps, mostly for convenience sake, but that was how he discovered podcasts. 

Dean had been obsessed with classic rock ever since he’d heard his first  _ AC/DC  _ song on a road trip with his dad when he was six. ‘Highway to Hell’ had begun a love affair with what Sammy referred to as ‘mullet rock’ and Dean had never looked back. He loved them all, Metallica, Styx, Creedence; Dean knew everybody word, every version, and every release date. It was the one aspect of his life that was dictated by something other than family, work, and his car. 

But out of all of the bands that Dean adores, his absolute favorite, was hands down,  _ Blade for the Knights _ , fronted by Cain Lassiter. 

Cain and his bandmates, Abaddon, Asmodeus, and Cain’s younger brother, Abel, made phenomenal music. Music that  _ spoke  _ to Dean on a deep and visceral level. It was almost as though Cain  _ knew  _ him. Every lyric seemed to have been written just for Dean. It was enough that Dean began to research Cain in order to learn more about him. The more that he discovered, the more that Dean realized that he had a ton in common with the famous singer. 

Both Cain and Dean were older brothers, who’d practically raised their sibling. They both had underage charges for assault in the defense of said younger brothers as well. And they had also both lost their parents at a young age, while having a string of meaningless relationships. Perhaps the oddest coincidence was the fact that they both had similar tattoos of large knives on their arms—and Dean had gotten his done before he’d even heard of Cain or  _ Blade for the Knights _ . It added up to a pretty serious fanboy man-crush, for Dean. Which was why he consumed anything that he possibly could about Cain Lassiter. 

His quest for knowledge led him to the podcasts, and from there, Dean was down the rabbit hole. 

Three years ago, back when they’d still been living in Lawrence, Kansas, Dean had listened to an interview with Cain and discovered something interesting about the man. The famous musician was apparently an avid beekeeper in his spare time. He had even explained that the lack of long tours for the band were due to the fact that Cain refused to leave his bees alone for too long, and since he was the man behind the music, he called the shots. As Cain went on to describe how wonderfully relaxing beekeeping could be, as well as the positive impact on the environment, Dean found himself curious. Enough that he went straight to the library the next day and checked out a few ‘Beginners Guides to Beekeeping.’ However, he soon discovered that the cramped two bedroom apartment that he shared with Sam in Lawrence wouldn’t be conducive to keeping bees. With disappointment weighing him down, Dean returned the books and vowed that if he ever had land, he would get a hive of his own. 

When their Uncle Bobby, who’d raised the Winchester brothers after their parent’s untimely deaths, had been in an accident that took the use of his legs, both Dean and Sam refused to listen to his protests and packed up their lives to head for Sioux Falls. It took a month to get their affairs in order and head north, but by the time that they arrived, they were shocked to discover that Bobby had purchased a small lot just down the road from him for the brothers to share. For the first time since they had been kids, Sam and Dean had a house.

They both tried to protest, but Bobby had shut them down fast when he explained that with them coming to help him, he wanted nothing more than to use some of the settlement and insurance money to buy them the small home. It would need a little work, but both brothers were eager to make the place their own. And the best part of all was that there was land. Relatively private land, at that. Dean immediately began to think of hives. 

It took a few weeks to settle in, Dean was going to take over Bobby’s automotive shop in the meantime, and Sam had already been hired on as the town's new head librarian before they’d even arrived in town. It made Dean preen with pride when he thought about how smart and accomplished his baby brother was, getting hired ‘sight unseen’ like that. Sammy was a good kid and his passion in life was books—he made a damn good librarian, as proven by his years as the assistant head at the Lawrence branch.

Dean let Sam turn the third bedroom into a library, and Sam agreed to help Dean with his hives once they managed to get some. It was a win for both Winchesters.

Building the hives was easy. Dean had always been good with his hands due to being mechanically minded and woodworking wasn’t much of a challenge for him. He opted to build his own rather than purchase a pre-assembled hive for a multitude of reasons. He wanted to save money, he wanted to  _ create  _ something that was all his, and he didn’t have much else to do in a new town. 

The local hardware store, run by a friendly guy named Benny, had three quarter inch boards, and there were a few YouTube videos dedicated to hives, and building your own. Including one done by Cain, which made Dean’s week and set him back a whole day after he got sucked into watching it over and over for tips. Most instructed the finished hives to be painted with a white latex paint, the lighter color keeping the hives cooler in the summer heat; however Cain had painted his light blue and Dean decided to mimic his musical idol in that respect as well. 

When Dean went back to the hardware store, he’d chatted with Benny as the paint mixed. The rugged, red haired man perked up when Dean explained what he was working on. “I got another beekeeper who comes in often,” Benny said. “He’s the only one around these parts that has hives that I’m aware of.”

“Really?” Dean seemed interested. It would be kind of nice to speak with someone in person—especially if said person had some experience with the whole thing. 

Though proud, Dean was absolutely ready and willing to ask for advice on a project he cared so much about. He wanted his hives to be a success. Hell, he and Cain were so similar that if he could do it, Dean was certain that he could as well.

“Yeah, brotha,” Benny’s southern accent shone through thick, despite his years living in South Dakota. “Name’s Castiel Novak. He’s a good guy, quiet though—kinda shy. But he’s great with the bees. I always buy my local honey from him at the Farmer’s Market in the summer. Best stuff around.”

“I’m not looking to compete,” Dean said. “I don’t even know if I’d sell my honey.”

“You will,” Benny smiled. “Bees make a lot—it’s kinda their thing. And Cas wouldn’t care if you sold as well. There’s more than enough customers to go around. Everyone wants to buy local but we just don’t have enough product to satisfy the demand ‘round here.”

Dean nodded. “Novak, you said?”

“Yeah. Castiel.”

“Weird name,” Dean commented. 

“I think it’s religious,” Benny said. “Anyway, he lives over on old Route 4, just down from Singer Salvage.”

Dean’s head shot up at the words. This Castiel was his neighbor? How convenient. They were within walking distance, and due to the fact that not many people lived out that way, it would make sense for Dean to introduce himself as a new neighbor. “Across from Singer’s?” He repeated.

“Yup,” Benny began to close the top of the paint can, now that it had finished mixing. “Big white farmhouse across the road and down maybe a hundred feet from the entrance to the salvage yard. There’s a ton of trees at the road there so most people don’t realize there’s a house back that way.”

It was true—Dean hadn’t, and he’d been visiting Bobby there ever since the old man had moved away from Lawrence once both Winchesters were grown. “Thanks, Benny,” Dean paid for the paint with a grin. “I’ll have to track this Castiel guy down and pick his brain. I’m new to this.”

“He’ll love it,” Benny assured him. “Cas may be a bit quiet and reserved, but once you get him going about the bees, just put up your feet and keep refilling your glass. He can talk your ear off about those little critters.”

“Good to know,” Dean said. “Thanks again, Benny,” he said with a wave. 

“Any time, brotha.”

It seemed that Dean had a mission to complete once he got his hives painted. Thursday afternoon meant that he could stop by Castiel’s farmhouse tomorrow on the way home from work. Hopefully the man would be willing to help a newbie out. And who knew—this could be the beginning of a beautiful bee friendship. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

Castiel Novak wasn’t the most popular of citizens in the town of Sioux Falls. Lots of people thought he was odd or stuck up, and the local children seemed to think he was some sort of supernatural creature. He’d caught quite a few teens over the years sneaking around on his property over the years trying to peek in his windows. 

The last time his older brother, Gabriel, had come by for dinner, he’d mentioned that the newest rumor amongst the kids who came into his old fashioned soda shop was that Cas was a demon. That was new. He’d asked Gabriel if that meant he would get wings, and his brother laughed and said that he didn’t need anything else to ingratiate himself with the bees. Apparently Cas spent too much time with his hives, but he couldn’t help it—they were such fascinating creatures. So noble. 

As such, Cas didn’t have many friends or acquaintances in town, despite living there his whole life. He had Gabriel, and that was enough. There were a few people that were kind to him, and sort of friend-like, such as Gabriel’s best friend, Charlie, or Castiel’s coworker Kevin Tran, or even Benny at the hardware store. Miss Ellen, and her daughter, Jo, at the diner were always friendly enough; and before Robert Singer had been in that terrible accident, he’d been happy to help Castiel with the occasional project and sit on the porch with a tumbler of scotch when the job was done. In a city of almost two hundred thousand, it wasn’t many, but Cas was appreciative of the few humans that he had in his life. 

The only problem was that people who didn’t have many friends never had visitors...so who was knocking on his front door?

Castiel sat at his kitchen table with his hardcover copy of  _ The Hobbit _ , and a perfectly brewed pot of tea and stared down the hallway toward his door. Afternoon on a Friday meant that Gabriel would be at work dealing with the after school rush of students getting a head start on the weekend with a sugar rush. Bobby Singer wouldn’t have been able to get up the porch steps. Jo, Ellen, and Benny never  _ visited  _ him; and Charlie had a huge deadline and said she’d be holed up in her home office for the weekend. 

That meant it was a stranger, and the thought made Cas uneasy. 

The knock sounded again, but it wasn’t insistent. Cas had the feeling that if he didn’t answer then the person would go away peaceably. However, the moment that thought crossed his mind, Cas immediately wondered if perhaps it was someone in need of assistance. Maybe their car broke down, or something else unfortunate. He sighed. As mu Co as he disliked the company of humans that he didn’t know, he would never turn away someone in need. 

Castiel pushed his chair back, scraping it on the stone floor of the kitchen and moved to the door. The knocking had stopped, but he still pulled open the front door and peered outside. A man that he didn’t recognize was walking down the steps toward a sleek, black muscle car.

“Hello,” Cas called to the man’s retreating back. 

The guy spun around and looked up at him. Cas could feel his lips part in surprise as he took in the stranger’s  _ perfect  _ features. This man was a few steps above an Adonis—he was Eros come to life! His hair was some sort of shade between dark blonde and a lighter brown, the strands all melding perfectly to create a multitude of layers at first glance. He was tall, close to Castiel’s own height, though standing on different levels such as this made it difficult to gauge. They could be eye to eye, or an inch or so apart. The worn, brown leather jacket hung loosely on the man’s frame, hiding what was certainly a spectacular body from what Cas could see of the tight shirt stretched across firm looking pectoral muscles. Strong jaw, high cheekbones, plump pink lips, only added to the stranger’s appeal. 

And those  _ eyes _ .

The green of new moss, or the bright leaves of the flowers that his bees so loved. Castiel could happily find himself lost in those sparkling eyes.

“Hi,” the man said.

Cas flushed, realizing that he’d been staring; which, according to Gabriel, people found unsettling. “Apologies,” he said. “May I help you?”

The man rubbed the back of his neck and took a few steps back to the porch. “Yeah, I think so. Are you Castiel Novak?”

Eyes widening, Castiel said, “Perhaps. Who are you?”

“Name’s Dean. Dean Winchester. I’m one of Bobby Singer’s nephews—my brother and I just moved into the house on the other side of the salvage yard.”

The words made Cas relax substantially. This man—Dean—was his new neighbor. “Welcome to Sioux Falls,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it here. Robert has spoken of you and your brother often. He must be thrilled to have you so close again.”

Dean smiled. “Yeah, he is. Doesn’t show it, of course—but he’s been pretty happy.”

Knowing that Bobby Singer liked to put on a taciturn nature, Castiel allowed a small smile in acknowledgement. “Was there something that you needed, Dean? I’m always willing to extend a helping hand to a new neighbor.” It was a lie, but Gabriel and Charlie were always bothering him to make more friends. 

And Dean was  _ very _ attractive. 

“Actually yeah, there is,” Dean said, moving closer. Their eyes met and held. Castiel wasn’t certain if he was taking any breath into his lungs. He couldn’t tell if Dean was breathing either. The man had completely frozen, smiling at Cas with those eyes boring straight into Cas’— _ deeply _ .

Castiel moved down onto the first step, his hand resting lightly on the porch railing, his eyes focused on Dean’s face. The world around them seemed to melt away until it went hazy and all that Cas could clearly see was Dean. It was powerful and terrifying. His heart pounded and he took another step, hovering mid stair while Dean beamed up at him from the ground. 

Finally— _ finally _ —Castiel broke himself from the trance and managed to speak. “What can I do to—for—you, Dean?” Cas flushed at the slip up and prayed that Dean hadn’t noticed.

His hopes were dashed when Dean’s lips quirked, but the man didn’t comment on Castiel’s ‘Freudian Slip.’ Instead, Dean utterly surprised him by saying, “I need some advice about bees.”

Bees? How did Dean know that Cas loved his bees? The question must have shown on his features because Dean gave an awkward chuckle and said, “I’ve been building my own hives and the guy at the hardware store, Benny—he said you were the local expert. He mentioned you lived out this way, and Bobby vouched that you weren’t a serial killer, so here I am.”

He walked down the rest of the stairs and stood on the ground next to Dean. He was an inch or so shorter, and it was  _ perfect _ . “You’re building hives?”

“Yup.”

“May I ask why?” 

Castiel wasn’t concerned in the least about another person who might sell local honey—but he  _ did  _ take offense to people who didn’t know what they were doing and ended up killing a hive of bees on accident with their limited knowledge. The fact that Dean was looking for advice, boded well, however—but Cas wanted to be sure. 

“It’s stupid,” Dean said, a shade of pink dusting his cheeks and making the man’s freckles even more obvious. Castiel wanted nothing more than to press his lips to each and every one.

“Indulge me,” he requested. 

Dean grunted and looked down at the muddy earth for a moment before glancing up, his back straight and defiant, as though he was waiting for Castiel to get angry about something. “Highlights? Someone that I admire keeps bees and I thought I’d try my hand at it. I mean,” Dean looked pained, “They’re dying. We need more. If those little bastards go, they’re taking us with them and I thought I could do my part. Cain said it was relaxing too.”

Castiel smiled as Dean’s eyes went wide as he realized that he’d let too much information slip. “Cain Lassiter?” Cas tilted his head. “The rock star?”

Nodding sheepishly, Dean said, “I like his music.” He looked at Cas again, his expression practically daring Cas to tease him.

“As do I,” Cas smiled, and turned to walk toward the backyard where he kept his hives. 

Dean scrambled to keep up with him and as he questioned, “You’re a fan of  _ ‘Blade for the Knights,’ _ ” Castiel wondered if Dean was more excited about the bees or finding a fellow fan. 

“I enjoy their music.”

“No offense, but you don’t really seem the type.”

Cas stopped and turned to Dean. “Well, I’m afraid that I  _ do  _ take offense to that assumption,” he said gravely. 

Next to him, Dean paled and began to backtrack. “I’m so sorry, Cas—I didn’t mean...I mean, I didn’t— _ shit!” _

At that, Castiel took pity and actually burst out into laughter. “I am teasing you, Dean.” The dumbstruck look on Dean’s face made Castiel chuckle a bit more. “I’m aware that I’m standing next to you in pressed slacks and a tie, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate a good rock band. Cain is particularly gifted, though I don’t care for Asmodeus much. Not only his playing, but his private reputation doesn’t appeal.” He was pleased when Dean nodded, in agreement. “Abel is fair on keys, but he just doesn’t have the same stage presence during a live performance as the others. Now, Abaddon,” Cas smiled. “I’ve rarely seen someone that talented on the drums. And her looks don’t hurt my admiration for her.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “She’s hot, but I think she eats men alive.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Cas replied. “So you’re a fan of Cain Lassiter and wish to emulate him by keeping bees. Bees are such noble creatures, I’m sure that you will find that having a hive of your own is very rewarding.”

“I’m hoping so,” Dean said. “You talk about the band as though you are a musician as well?”

“I play the violin,” Cas told him. 

“Seriously? That’s badass,” Dean said. “I play guitar, but I’m more of a singer. Sammy, my brother,” he reminded Cas, who nodded. “Sammy hates singing, but he  _ shreds  _ on bass. How long have you played the violin?”

“I started as a child,” Cas told him. “I hated it at first, but stuck with it—due to my parent’s insistence—and I’m glad that I did.” Cas stopped and indicated the wooden hives about ten feet away. “There they are,” he said, pride seeping through his voice. He’d worked so hard for his bees and he was pleased with how far he had come with them. 

“Damn, Cas,” Dean’s eyes were taking in all five hives as the low hum of buzzing bees floated around them. “Benny wasn’t kidding—you really must be an expert!”

“I’ve learned a lot as I have gone along,” Cas said. “I started with a small bug hotel for my garden and progressed to a single hive. As I became more confident, I added more. Each hive has a single queen, and around forty thousand worker bees.”

“Forty  _ thousand _ ?” Dean stared. “I’d only really gotten as far as building the hive. I didn’t realize there would be so many. They’re not dangerous?”

“No, Dean,” Cas said. “As with any animal, they will attack if threatened, but most bees are content to leave you alone. There are proper precautions and steps that I take to avoid being accidentally stung, and I would be happy to teach you.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“That sounds great, buddy!”

_ Buddy _ . It was an almost unfamiliar word for Castiel. Sure, he had read the word, or heard it in passing, though never directed at him. It was...nice. He enjoyed the idea that if Dean referred to him as a ‘buddy’ then perhaps that would mean that they were on the road to becoming friends. Castiel knew that for as much as Gabriel teased him about his lack of social life, that his brother was truly concerned. Introverted was one thing—whatever Castiel was seemed to be a few steps beyond simple introversion. 

“It’s getting a bit late,” Dean said, breaking Cas from his thoughts. 

“Oh, yes. I’m sure you have things to do.”

“What? No,” Dean laughed. “I was just thinking that it was almost dinner time. Would you want to head into town for a bite? We could talk about the hives.”

A soft smile crossed Castiel’s lips. “I believe that I would enjoy that immensely, Dean. Yes,” he clarified when Dean looked at him oddly. “I would love to join you for dinner.”

“Awesome.”

They walked back to the front of the house, and Dean insisted on driving. He waited for Castiel to lock up and the moment that they got into the car, Dean had one of Castiel’s favorite songs from ‘ _ Blade for the Knights _ ’ blaring from the stereo. An impulsive dinner date with a handsome stranger, some good music, and conversation about bees. If only Gabriel could see him now—see how  _ fun _ Castiel was being. It was the perfect first date in Castiel’s mind. Too bad that Dean most likely only wanted friendship and bee-mentorship. No matter, Cas would do what he could to be a friend to Dean Winchester, even if he wanted so much more. 

At the very least, it would be nice to have someone to talk bees with who didn’t roll their eyes. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean drove them straight to Bobby’s favorite place on the outskirts of town, The Roadhouse. It was a smallish diner, nearby and the space between the tables were wide, which was why Bobby said he preferred going there—easier with the wheelchair. Both Sam and Dean knew it was a cover for the real reason. Bobby was sweet on Ellen, the owner. 

Apparently they’d been on a few dates before the accident and Dean eventually got the truth out of his uncle that he’d pushed Ellen away saying that she ‘deserved a whole man.’ It was bullshit, and Bobby knew it. Ellen was just as crazy about the old man. But Bobby was a stubborn SOB and had a suitcase full of self-esteem issues even before he’d landed in the chair. They’d been trying to repair the damage that Bobby had caused, despite his loudly vocal protests, and lately Ellen seemed to be taking the bait.

But besides the soap opera level of drama, The Roadhouse served damn good food. When Dean pulled into the lot, he was happy to see a small smile on Castiel’s face at the venue. 

“You’ve been here?” Dean asked. 

Nodding, Cas said, “Yes. My brother is obsessed with their desserts and I’m rather fond of the burgers. Miss Ellen and Jo are very kind to me.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that so he shrugged and the two men got out of the car. As soon as they were inside they were set upon by Ellen who hugged them both with a huge smile. “Dean, how has that old bastard Bobby Singer been? You haven’t brought him in for a while.”

“He’s good,” Dean winked. “Dreaming of you. As soon as I can get him in a suit I’ll bring him by.”

She whacked him on the arm with a menu. “You be nice to your uncle. He’s gone through a lot. That’s a big adjustment. I just miss him. He knows how to make a woman feel...special.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up at the innuendo.  _ Go Bobby! _ By then, Ellen had turned to Cas and greeted him slightly more gentle. “It’s good to see you Castiel,” she said. “I had a feeling you’d end up finding this pretty ball of trouble sooner or later. You two make a nice couple.”

“Oh,” Cas stumbled. “We’re just—Dean wanted—“

“We do look hot together don’t we?” Dean interrupted him and slung an arm over Cas’ shoulder. “I figured this was the best place for a first date.”

“You were right,” Ellen grinned as Castiel stood awkwardly blushing next to Dean. 

She took pity and led them to a back booth. The two of them slid into the sparkling red vinyl seats across from one another. However, as soon as they had menus and a little privacy, Dean reached out a hand across the silver tabletop toward Cas. “I hope you don’t mind. I was just joking around,” Dean said. “Unless you’d like this to be a date and then that would be amazing.” He was fucking babbling and needed to stop. 

“We could call this a date,” Cas said slowly. “I would like that.”

“You would?” Dean latched onto Cas hand, almost desperately. When Cas nodded, Dean grinned and said, “Oh, awesome! Okay, so this is our first date. Tell me more about yourself.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Castiel said slowly. 

“What do you do for a living?”

“I train service animals,” Cas said. “My coworker, Kevin, is a friend. He mostly trains seeing eye dogs? While I take the ones that help with PTSD, as well as the ones who alert for blood sugar levels or seizures.”

“Damn!” Dean was impressed. “That’s really amazing.”

“Thank you,” Cas smiled. “I love animals, they’re truly the best creation.”

“No argument here,” Dean said. “I’ve never really been one to have a pet, much to Sammy’s disappointment, but I find that animals are far more pleasant than most people. There’s some real monsters out there.”

“Yes. There are.”

They quickly changed the subject, talking of everything from favorite colors to whether or not they thought zodiac signs meant anything. Castiel believed they were accurate while Dean was more skeptical. After he told Cas a bit about himself, his date pointed out some of his ‘very Aquarius personality traits,’ which made Dean chuckle. So maybe it wasn’t total bullshit after all. 

The conversation flowed easily. It didn’t even stop when their double bacon butter burgers topped with fresh onion rings arrived. Dean slathered his with ketchup and talked with his mouth full. Castiel added barbecue sauce and would swallow before adding to the topics at hand. They were so similar on a ton of levels and just slightly off on others—but it  _ worked _ ! 

They just clicked. More than Dean had with anyone in a very long time. 

They playfully fought over the bill, though Dean won by pointing out that dinner had been his idea and that Cas was doing him a favor with the advice about bees. After he’d tossed down a tip however, Castiel grumbled that he would be paying next time. 

“Is that you asking me out for a second date?” Dean teased. 

“Perhaps,” Castiel said, sounding serious. 

“Perhaps?” Dean echoed. 

“Yes,” Cas’ grin could be described only as sly. “It all depends on if I can get a decent goodnight kiss out of you, Dean Winchester.”

Following after Cas toward the car, Dean was dumbfounded. Perhaps there was more to the sexy beekeeper than just awkwardness. Cas might seem like kind of a dork, but there was some sizzling heat under all the layers of strange—and Dean liked it. He liked everything about Castiel Novak so far. 

When they were back at the farmhouse, Dean made a show of opening Castiel’s car door for him. He intended to walk Cas to his door like a gentleman—the kind that his exes had always pointed out that Dean  _ wasn’t. _ Perhaps he just wasn’t for them. 

The romantic girly crap  _ could _ be nice if it was with the right person. And Cassie, Lisa, Gordon, Pam, Aaron and Tara hadn’t been right. They’d all been great in their own way, but Dean had known Castiel for less than five hours and he was ready to buy throw pillows and make stupid little ‘IOU a back rub’ coupons for the man. It threw Dean off of his game just a little. 

He grabbed Cas’ hand and made to walk toward the porch when Cas tugged lightly, pulling Dean toward the backyard instead. He was helpless to do anything but follow. 

They settled under a large pine oak that dominated the east side of the property, it’s branches heavy and low above them. Dean’s back was pressed against the rough bark of the tree and he could feel the coolness of the damp earth seeping through his jeans. Castiel was nestled into his side, their bodies almost melded together innocently. 

“I find the hives to be soothing,” Castiel said. “Especially at sunset.”

Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head against the tree. As soon as the hum began, it was all that he could hear. He looked down at Cas and said, “Wow!”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “They are inside of their hive, but still very busy.”

“They sound like an air conditioner,” Dean chuckled. 

“I suppose they do.”

The two men leaned into one another in peaceable silence and listened to the buzzing of the hives as they watched the sun sink below the horizon. The sky had exploded in colors and Dean could feel his breath catch. Nature always amazed him. It was one of the ways that he still felt connected to his parents. John and Mary Winchester had always loved to go camping or simply lay in the back yard and look up at the stars. There were so many fond familial memories for Dean in nature. 

Tonight, however, he wasn’t thinking of his parents. He was focused fully on the man in his arms. As the buzz of the bees echoed out of their hives and the sky went black, Dean took a chance, leaning down and catching Castiel’s lips with his own. 

The touch was light, sweet almost. Dean wanted to be sure that he wasn’t overstepping, and kissed almost tentative. He was soon pressing eagerly to Castiel as his companion deepened this kiss, pressing his tongue eagerly into Dean’s mouth. 

Before Dean could think, Castiel was moving. He hitched his leg over Dean’s and settled into his lap, as though he belonged there—which in Dean’s opinion, he absolutely did. He could feel Castiel’s hardness against his own as Cas circled his hips, grinding them together. Dean gasped into Cas’ mouth and received a low, possessive growl for his trouble. 

It was fucking hot. 

Immediately, Dean’s dick bobbed at the sound and he gasped again. He was turning into a needy mess in Castiel’s skilled embrace. The more that he was touched and kissed, the more that Dean  _ needed _ . He bucked his hips upward and Cas gave a dark chuckle. “Naughty boy,” he said, and Dean melted. 

Moving his head to nibble along Dean’s jaw, Cas ran his hands down until they rested against the buckle of Dean’s jeans. “Oh, yes, please,” Dean whispered. 

“Do you want me, Dean?”

“Fuck yes, Cas—please!”

There were no words as Castiel deftly undid Deans pants and slid them down his narrow hips. Dean slid down the trunk of the tree as Castiel undressed him, until he was half lying down. Once he was bare from the waist down, Cas gripped Dean’s cock, squeezing lightly and brushing the tip, spreading precum across Dean’s tip. 

He pumped Dean’s cock a few times, drawing uninhibited noises from Dean’s throat, and Cas smiled. That look, it was so domineering and predatory. As though Cas wanted nothing more than to take Dean apart and put him back together. It was intoxicating. 

“Do you have a condom?” Castiel asked, rubbing the spongy head of Dean’s prick. 

Moaning, Dean nodded. “In my wallet. There’s a packet of lube in there too. Hurry!”

“My, my, you are a Boy Scout aren’t you?” Cas teased gently. 

Dean’s eyes fluttered open and he bit his lower lip. “Trust me, Bobby drilled it into Sam and my head that he didn’t want any accidents when we were growing up. Wrap it before you tap it and all that.”

Castiel was back in his space, kissing him deeply and Dean had a fleeting thought that this was what heaven must be like. “Did you expect to need a condom and lube tonight?”

“No,” Dean answered honestly. “They’re just always in there.”

“In the future,” Cas nipped at Dean’s lips, “Make sure you have a few. I’m very disappointed that I only get one go with you tonight.”

“Oh, fuck,” Dean groaned. Castiel was going to kill him. He was going to die of amazing sex with the hottest man he’d ever seen and no one would find him. 

He didn’t even care. 

“Want you,” he whispered. 

“I know, Dean.”

Cas worked him gently, slowly opening him up with expert touches. It wasn’t long before Dean was a puddle beneath him, fully resting in the soft dirt under the oak tree. “That’s it,” Cas praises. “You’re so beautiful like this, Dean. I could watch you forever.”

“Cas, I need—“

“Yes,” was all that Castiel said before slipping his fingers free from Dean’s heat and sliding the condom over himself. 

Beneath him, Dean whispered as Cas lined up to his entrance. Dean still had his shirt on, and Cas had only unzipped his pants. He could feel the sharp rub of the zipper against his skin and it was pure torture. “Are you ready for me, Dean?”

“Hell yes!”

Castiel slid home in one smooth, powerful stroke. In an instant Dean went from begging to euphoric as he was filled with Cas’ thick, throbbing cock. “So much,” he murmured. 

“Too much?”

“No. Perfect,” Dean reassured his new lover. 

Glancing up, he could see Cas looming over him in the fading light, a thin sheen of sweat along his brow. He was trying to hold back, and it made Dean fall a little more in love with the man. 

_ Love _ . An almost foreign concept to Dean Winchester.

“Cas,” he whispered.

The first thrust was so slow that Dean wanted to beg—loudly—but he held back. He knew if he cried out now, that he would ask for hard and fast, when what he really wanted was this slow, sensual love-making that Castiel was giving him. Dean had never been one for the softer side of sex, he liked to ‘hit and quit.’ The Wham, Bam, Let’s Take a Nap and Then Order Takeout kind of sex had always been his staple. But in that moment, as Castiel held him so tenderly, rocking into him with control and precision, as beautiful words fell from his lips, Dean could only wish that this would last forever.

For the first time, Dean felt truly cherished. 

He gripped Castiel’s shoulders, allowing one hand to drift into the other man’s messy, dark hair, and sighed. “You’re so good to me Cas,” he breathed. 

“I plan to treat you like the god that you are for a very long time, Dean.” Cas was looking deeply into his eyes, slowly fucking into Dean, making every nerve alight with desire. 

“You feel amazing,” Dean moaned. 

“You feel perfect.”

Their lips met, slowly and soft, exploring as though they had all the time in the world. As they tasted of one another, Dean couldn’t help but send up a silent prayer that this was it—that he might have finally found his peace. 

The longer they moved as one, the more frantic they became. Even someone with apparent superhuman control had a breaking point. All that Cas said was, “Dean,” as he brushed his lips to his lovers in a sweet kiss. 

It was all that he needed to say. And Dean responded in kind with, “Yes.”

Castiel’s head fell forward, resting on Dean’s shoulder as he began to pump his hips in earnest. Each slide of his cock over Dean’s prostate had him crying out in pleasure. With each thrust, the zipper of Castiel’s pants scraped along Dean’s tender flash. It was infuriatingly perfect. He wanted more—he  _ needed _ more. 

Dean needed everything. 

With a gracefulness that Dean could never hope to emulate, Castiel reached between them and began to stroke Dean’s thick cock, sending shivers down his spine. That insistent pressure building in his groin was becoming too much to bear. One more slide over his sweet spot and Dean came with a soft, broken cry. 

As he pulsed his seed into Cas’s fist, his sensitive hole felt two more powerful strokes before Castiel stilled above him, Dean’s name on his lips. 

They stayed connected, sprawled out under the tree, the soothing sound of the bees humming away, in the darkness of the new night. Everything was different—and so much better than it had been that morning. 

Dean wiggled a bit underneath Castiel, in a silent bid for another kiss. He was rewarded with perfection. “Stay the night, Dean.”

“Nothing I’d want more, Cas,” Dean said as their lips met once more. 

This was the first night of many, Dean knew that like he knew his own name. He felt complete—satisfied—in a way that he never had in the past. Who would have thought that a weird obsession with a rock star, a hive full of bees, and one perfect kiss would give Dean one of the best nights of his life. 

As they crawled into Castiel’s large, soft bed later that evening, windows open to let in the night air and the sound of the hives, Dean had never been happier. 

Funnily enough, they never got around to talking about the beehives at all that night. 

**Author's Note:**

> 🍭I am on Tumblr as crowley-loves-usuk if anyone feels the urge to follow or message me. I love talking to readers! 🍭


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